They left him there dying as they ripped open new clothing paks.
"Let's go, let's go! Where's the boots?"
"I saw shoes a couple aisles over."
"Come on! Help me into this thing! Why do they put the closures on the…"
"Scut! You've got it on backwards!" Valkyrie's blood was ice cold as she helped Millina with the blouse. Her fingers were trembling, she was overloaded on adrenalin. They had to get out of there, and on with the mission!
***
Millina and Valkyrie waited in the shadows, silent, shoulder to shoulder, breathing heavily, backs against a cold metal wall. Millina held a bloody dagger in one hand, almost as if contemplating it. The door leading to the corridor was closed. They were still inside the supply outlet, waiting for word from Snow Leopard.
"Two Systies so far," Millina said, "One Mocain, one Orman."
"You're keeping score?" Valkyrie's heart was pounding.
"You've got three. Don't forget that little girl."
"I'm not likely to forget her," Valkyrie replied coldly.
"Greenie, Valkyrie," One said. "The corridor's clear. Get out now, turn left, walk fast, second door on the left, use the combo."
Valkyrie punched the code and the exit door swung open. They hustled along a deserted hallway, clad in khaki.
"Attention!" a metallic voice announced, "This area continues under a Code Yellow Security Alert. All security units remain on the alert for undocumented VS laborers and for two Mocain females in SIS uniform. All security doors are to remain sealed until further notice."
"That's the door!"
Valkyrie punched the override code—1, 2, 3, 4. It slid open easily. They found themselves in a poorly lighted, wide, dusty metal stairwell that seemed to spiral up into infinity and down into the dark.
"Do I look like a Mocain?" Valkyrie asked.
"Consider yourself lucky they weren't more accurate," Millina replied. "All right, let's go." They headed up to the next level and immediately ran into a floor to ceiling barrier, a cenite grill.
"Deto!"
"It's the security alert," One whispered. "Use the combo!" There was indeed a combination pad set to one side. Valkyrie tried it. The grill lifted silently.
"All right!"
"Keep going up," One ordered. "We're not sure if the intrusion is registering on their security systems or not. We've put the children's channel on their tacnet." Valkyrie and Millina were not listening. They were padding up the stairs just like a pair of jungle predators, suddenly loose in a city full of prey.
***
"Please don't kill her, Dragon," Priestess whispered. "They're so close it won't make any difference!" Dragon and Priestess were in a public restroom at one end of a large swimming pool. The artificial sunlight shining in the doorway was in stark contrast to the dark, cool interior. The subject of their conversation stood naked before them, pale, trembling—a pretty, slim little subteen girl, curly chestnut hair, dark eyes, small breasts, long legs, gasping in horror. Priestess slipped on the girl's swimsuit. Dragon already had on long, loose swim trunks and a sleeveless mesh swim shirt. A trickle of scarlet blood leaked from under one of the toilet stalls, pooling itself right at the feet of the terrified girl. There were only four lockers in the unisex rest room. All had been empty of clothing. The two visitors had already donated their swimsuits, and one had paid with his life for his resistance. Had Dragon been carrying the shockrod, it might have ended differently. But Priestess had the shockrod.
The girl whimpered, too scared to scream, icy sweat beading her brow. Dragon held a strand of angel wire, only visible because it was dripping blood. Dragon reached out with one hand and grasped the girl firmly by her hair and pulled her over to the lockers, opening one cautiously. The girl shuddered and cried—not yet ready to die.
"Get in," he said. She squeezed into the narrow locker, wedging herself in firmly, her knees at her chin, face twitching. Dragon leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"I'll be coming back to check on you. One peep out of you and I'll cut off your head!" She nodded her understanding, eyes bugging, teeth chattering. Priestess handed Dragon the shockrod. He touched the girl with it briefly, her skin flared with electricity, and she slumped into unconsciousness. Dragon closed the locker door.
"You old softy," Priestess chided him.
"Follow me," Dragon ordered. "Leave the shockrod. You can't conceal it in that suit." Priestess tossed it into a toilet. They trotted out of the rest room into bright hot lights and a wide expanse of shimmering blue water and a scattering of people catching artificial rays by the side of the pool.
Dragon dove smoothly into the pool and Priestess followed, as sleek as an otter. They swam underwater for the far end, the shallow end, where the main clubhouse was located. The changing rooms were there, with lockers—lots of lockers, full of street clothes. It was cool and refreshing under the water, Priestess thought. The artificial sunlight shimmered on the surface above them like a sheet of liquid gold. It was unreal—considering their mission. They had shot into the water so fast that it was unlikely that anyone had gotten a good look at them. Now they had to get out and into the clubhouse—almost as quickly.
They surfaced smoothly, gliding through the shallows past wading toddlers, then popping up, spraying water, out of the pool and into the clubhouse.
Chapter 26
Pipe Rats Rule
Psycho blinked hard. It was dark down there in the sewers, among the drains and pipes, but some clown was blasting away with a laser welder, and some other clown was flashing a spotlight around, dazzling Psycho's eyes.
"Waddya, a tourist? Oudda the way!" A couple of beefy workers brushed past him hauling a greasy section of pipe. Silently, Psycho watched them pass. He was dressed in soiled dark brown coveralls, sleeves rolled up, the front zipped open to reveal a sweaty chest. It was raining, it seemed—icy rain, splattering over his worker's cap. He turned away from the group of shadows huddled around the glowing welder, looking for a way past them in the confusing tangle of huge filthy pipes running along the floor and overhead. This was Psycho's kind of place, and it looked like nobody cared much who he was or what he did.
"You've got to get down one more level, Psycho," Snow Leopard announced, "and head east—I'll guide you."
"Keep your shirt on, One," Psycho muttered. "I got to kind of go with the flow. Aah!" He pulled his hand away from a red-hot pipe.
"The red ones are hot," One said.
"Thanks!" Psycho stepped into what appeared to be a narrow walkway between two forests of piping. It was still raining lightly. Spotlights were haloed in the mist.
"This place leaks," Psycho observed.
"Go left."
"Left. Sure. Why not?"
In a few moments Psycho came upon a short-haired girl, squatting on her haunches to one side of the trail. Psycho stopped to look her over. Reddish hair, flushed face, startling clear grey eyes, worker's cap perched jauntily on the back of her head. She looked back at him boldly. She was a little thing, dressed in dark brown—sleeves rolled up, pant cuffs rolled up, scruffy worker's boots. She chewed lazily on a thin, wet stick of something dark and evil.
Psycho consulted a little plastic mapbook. He looked around a bit, then up at the dark, leaking overhead, then back at the girl.
"Nice day," Psycho said.
The girl laughed, then turned her gaze away, sucking on her candy stick.
"Got no idea where we are here," Psycho said, looking up at the tangled mass of pipes running overhead, then slipping the map into a pocket.
The girl ignored him, running a pink tongue gently over the candy.
"Does it?" Psycho asked.
The girl removed the candy from her mouth and looked up at Psycho. "Yeah," she said, then stuck the candy back in her mouth, ignoring him once again.
Smiling, Psycho squatted down beside her.
"Waiting for a bus?" he asked. She smiled.
"Does it have a name?" he tried again.
"Who wants to know?"
"Hey, we asked first."
"None of ya business."
"Kind of sassy, huh? Sassy. Pleased, Sassy. Call me Psycho."
"It's a funny guy, Psycho. What's it doin' down here?"
"We were looking for a girl, actually."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. With short red hair, grey eyes, and a bad attitude. Found 'er."
"Get lost. Want a bite?" She held out the candy.
"Thanks, Sassy. Giving it up. Actually…we're already lost. Can it point us to PowerGen Thermo?"
"PowerGen Thermo? What's it want that for?"
"Got a job to do there."
A bright light blazed around them and a shadowy figure appeared, walking down the narrow aisle. "Get off your butt, sub," he snarled. "We need help in 7C."
"We're on our break!" Sassy shouted back at the man as he passed. "Give it a rest!"
"Well, hurry it up. We're all gonna drown down here…" he muttered, disappearing into the dark. The ceiling was still leaking drearily.
"Got a boy friend?" Psycho asked.
"Yeah. And it's one big, bad sub. It don't like it much when anybody messes with its girl."
"We don't care what it likes."
"We said it's big, Psycho—a lot bigger than it, actually."
"Not where it counts."
Sassy laughed again, delighted. "Sure it doesn't want a bite?"
"Not of that thing."
"It's a bundle of laughs. What's its unit?"
"Angel Procurement Detachment 22. We're from God. We're looking for the loveliest creatures in the galaxy. It qualifies. Interested?"
"It really wants to go to PowerGen Thermo?"
"Really."
"Hmm. Well, we've got a few spare fracs, before our job interview for Miss Norport. Guess we could take it there. But we hope it knows what it's doing. And got good ID. That's a restricted area."
"Yeah? Know a back way?"
"Sure. But it's kinda dark and spooky."
"It could hold our hand."
"Sure. If it's scared."
"Sassy—we've got a feeling this is going to be a short but very intense relationship. Lead on."
***
"Biogens. Damn! They've spotted us!" Millina skidded to a stop on a stairwell landing, looking up into the dark. "Back! Back!" She stumbled down the stairs recklessly with Valkyrie, back the way they had come.
"We were almost there!"
"Quiet! Two of them. Stop! Here!"
They waited in the shadows, just around a corner of a stairwell landing. They could hear the biogens opening the security grill, calling it in.
"Identification—one Mocain female, in DefCorps khaki and boots, no insignia. One Outworlder female…Hello? Hello? Does it receive us?"
"Security, patrol Seven One, see the zero. We are pursuing. Request assistance. Does it receive?"
Two fearless biogen girls leaped down from the steps to the landing, swinging shockrods. Valkyrie got a quick glimpse of their perfect, flawless faces and rust red uniforms. Millina hurled herself at one of them, plunging her dagger right into the girl's throat. Valkyrie struck at the other with her shockrod and the burst flared over the biogen's skin, dropping her. The first biogen girl swept Millina off her with one arm, effortlessly, and Millina was down, the biogen pulling the knife from her own throat with a gush of sticky white blood. Valkyrie's biogen sprang up, swinging her shockrod, but Valkyrie nailed her with a powerful right front kick. The girl fell again and skidded down the stairs. Valkyrie went after Millina's biogen, feinting with a fist, then connecting with a hard rising left snap kick to the biogen's chin. The girl buried the blade in Valkyrie's calf. Millina attacked from behind, a vicious roundhouse kick, connecting to the back of the biogen's head, driving her down. Valkyrie broke off immediately and hurled herself down the stairs, pulling open the angel wire. She met the second biogen charging up, shockrod snapping. Valkyrie used the angel wire to deflect the shockrod up, missing her face by mils, the raw power of the electric charge burning her face and sizzling her hair. Val came together with the biogen in a jarring tangle of limbs as they tumbled down the stairs to the next level, the shockrod flying away, ricocheting off a wall, thank God, face to face with the snarling biogen, startling white teeth, burning eyes, fingers like cenite knives, burying themselves in Valkyrie's throat. The angel wire—at last!—snapped around the biogen's neck. Valkyrie pulled with all her strength, pulling for her life, her head roaring, the biogen's fingers a vice, crushing her throat, cutting off all air, they were face to face, chest to chest on the landing floor, squirming almost like lovers, the biogen slamming one knee, then another, into Valkyrie's ribs. Again, again…the angel wire cut into the biogen's throat, white blood oozing out, and Valkyrie kept pulling the wire tighter and tighter, the biogen staring wide eyed now, no longer kicking, her grip on Valkyrie's throat as strong as ever, mouth open, white blood suddenly spurting out onto Valkyrie's face, but everything was going black now for Valkyrie…
***
Reality came flooding back dimly for Valkyrie. She was on her back on the landing, Millina kneeling over her.
"Get up, Legion. No more beauty sleep. Hold still. Don't scream! We're going to remove this knife." Millina drew the blade out of Valkyrie's calf in one smooth motion. Valkyrie was too charged to scream.
"Damn it! There's more of them up there! Up we go! Just a frac. Got a scarf from one of those gens. Got to stop the bleeding." She pulled tight and a hot burst of agony shot up Valkyrie's left leg. "That's it—let's go!"
"The other biogen?" Valkyrie choked, hobbling down the stairs with one arm over Millina.
"Dead. Two more dead. It's still one ahead of us."
"Leave me—the mission."
"We're a Legion trooper. We don't leave our comrades."
Valkyrie tried to gather her strength. There were more biogens rushing down the stairs, speaking into their comsets, perfectly calm. Millina would have plenty of opportunity to even the score.
***
"It's his birthday!" I exclaimed. "What a break!" Scrapper and I stood in a cheering, disorganized crowd of Norport basers, overflowing the walkways onto the boulevard. A wide phalanx of white-clad boys flowed past under fluttering banners and flags, marching lock-step behind a noisy marching band that was banging out a hypnotic beat. We were on Level P1, the public heart of the base, where a magnificent wide boulevard ran right around the base, lined with restaurants and shops and theaters and infomods and dox houses and artificial trees. The whole town was decorated for the Supreme Leader—KCA. His image was everywhere, huge portraits hanging overhead, floating past us held aloft by the children. He looked stern and distant—kind of like a god.
"Those are the Arcwhites." Mindless, the boys marched past, children without hope, waving the flags of an evil God. Their innocent faces shone with faith. Stormdawn, I thought. He's here, somewhere. He's got to be here!
Somebody threw a bag of confetti over us. A speaker blasted out martial music. What irony—his birthday.
"We missed it, Three," Snow Leopard whispered in my ear. "But it's a good opportunity. Look—the mob is following the parade. You can get all the way to the other side of the base. Do it!"
The Arcangels were next. Hundreds of biogen girls, his personal guard, clad in white and gold, stamping their boots into the deck in unison, faces cold and blank and absolutely lovely, marching under his flag. They were fully prepared to die for him.
A cheering mob followed the biogens, flooding the boulevard, waving flags and banners, blowing little paper horns, tossing confetti, launching little paper starships through the air.
We joined the crowd, jostled almost off our feet. It looked like the whole town was there. With luck, we'd make it to the opposite side of the base—just where we wanted to go—without even having to kill anybody. Closer. That much closer, to KCA. Can you feel me coming, KCA? I can almost taste your blood!
***
"PowerGen Thermo is all arou
nd us," Sassy said. Psycho and Sassy were nestled between two huge pipes that ran along the inside of the gigantic cenite tube they had entered. It was dark, hot and sweaty inside the tube. The pipe on one side was ice cold, the other red hot. The tube was not big enough for them to stand up. It was quite confining. Sweat beaded Sassy's forehead. Faint lights glowed behind and ahead of them. "Care for a brew?" she asked, producing two frosted containers from beneath the cold pipe.
"All the comforts of home," Psycho said, popping the cap and sipping the icy liquid.
"It's our home," Sassy said. "This base has got hundreds of K of piping and wiring. Things are always going wrong. And then somebody's got to go in and fix it. That's us—the Pipe Rats. This PowerGen mess is especially bad. It's hot as a star, and there's tons of radioactive waste water shooting through these tubes. It's bad news."
"It just wanders in and out of here whenever it wants?"
"Pretty much. Of course we're supposed to have a work order, but what do they know? We control the sensors down here—not them."
"No kidding."
"No kidding. So before we go on, how about it tells us who it is and why it wants to get into the power generator without going through Reception like a good boy."
"Why has it brought us this far, Sassy?"
"Cause we know it's not a redshirt. Although we haven't quite figured out what it is. Plus…it's a funny guy. We like comedians."
"Like to try out for that angel part?"
"Told it we've got an appointment for the Miss Norport slot already, Psycho. We don't know."
Cross of the Legion Page 36
